I feel the earth move ...

It shifts right along with my moods.
New years was a blast.
I actually behaved myself for once.(mostly)
Lot's of resolutions, and this is the year to stick to 'em. The future has a gaping wide whole. It's calling me, and I can't drag my feet any longer. If you'd just apply yourself, won't exist within these arterial walls. I'm going to live in truth. End. Stop. GO. I'm going to hug harder. Read smarter. Sleep Sounder etc.

Last night tragicboy gave me some insight into our shared plight:

"My ego is based on my very hard work at maintaining who I am and the ideals I hold up."

So we're not cut from the same kittens, but very similar breeds. Where is the the island of Last Unicorns? Strike that from the record, a whole island of Last Unicorn's would be maddening. It was a nice bonding experience nonetheless. But don't call me old-fashioned.

Last night I discovered these three things:
1) I love the poetry of Adrienne Rich
2) My sister and I are obscenely competitive
3) The wrath of editorial freedom

During finals, to procrastinate, of course I wrote a short story for Crawlspace Magazine. It's a MySpace based E-zine that's actually pretty well done. The topic was Robot Sex. So I wrote a story about someone having sex with a robot. I rather liked the story, and it was written in my usual "style." Well my story is the first one featured for the issue! Yeah, third piece of work published. It feels really good to see my story and name featured at the top of the page. But I read my story and I freaked out. The editor exercised her editorial "freedoms" quite excessively. They changed a few verbs and left out a few sentences. I was in love with those verbs and sentences. But the thing that really irked me was that they added a few words. I mean all in all it's very much my story, but being a new writer I had never experienced the phenomena of "editorial freedom." I know most of the changes were probably for clarity but ... they added the word bulletproof, really for no reason. I would never use "bullet proof." Where did my period go, and what about my sassy semi-colon? Okay I'm done with my rant if you'd like to view my story here's my story "1812x4"! I really like the zine, and I trust that they know their readers better than I. Most importantly I'm really glad to have written something that people want to read (even if, in a slightly altered state).

Today momma said that I should have something to fall back on. As if an international PR degree isn't enough. She's wondering when people are going to pay me to write.
"Well mom. You have to write a lot, and publish a ton before anyone will remember your name. Unless you want me writing smut novels I won't get paid for a very long time. Anyway I'm going to grad school for my phd. I'll be a professor." Her reply?
"No one will take you seriously as a professor. Your face and voice are too tiny."
Hmm. No wonder it took me so long. I'll be writing regardless of wether people decide to throw me a few alms or not. I can command a lot of respect when I want. Oh well, my momma also thinks that watching America's Next Top Model is dangerous for someone as young and impressionable as me.

Break is more than half-way through. I can't wait to get back, but I know once I start I'll be wishing for days off. It's time for me to start living my life for me and not anyone else.